


there are no words for that

by itjustcantbe



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fluffiest of the fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, honest to god, like i cant stress enough how cheesy this, like just cheesy romance, like this is just a little over 1k of softness that im not even sorry about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itjustcantbe/pseuds/itjustcantbe
Summary: “I love you, Baz,” he says. “I wish I had more words for that. With food there are so many words, dialects and languages all having different words that are used for the same thing, foreign words finding their way into the English lexicon, so you have more words to explain what you do. There’s nothing like that for how I feel about you.”“Nerd.” Barry’s reply is muffled by Ben’s chef’s jacket, but the one syllable word is hard to miss.





	there are no words for that

**Author's Note:**

> http://la-petitefille.tumblr.com/post/182971173147/i-read-once-that-the-ancient-egyptians-had-fifty  
> inspired by this tumblr post but like? u can only just tell? general shoutout to the sorted discord bc theyre lads and wont give me shit for writing utter soft softness

Ben can’t help but admire Barry, a smile that he has no desire to shake off settling on his face. They’re in bed together, Ben’s bedside light still on, giving him enough illumination to flip through a book and be able to make out the words, but not so bright that it disturbs Barry. 

“You don’t mind if I, like, start resting… ” Barry had trailed off, moving his pillows so he could lie down properly.

“Baz, you need the sleep.”

It was true - keeping up with the schedule of taking photos, editing thumbnails, being in and filming videos, that would be enough to exhaust anyone. Not that’s all Barry had been doing, no, of course Barry couldn’t leave it at that, he’d volunteered to redo their kitchen. Painting walls and installing hooks and shelving on the walls in between making sure videos had thumbnails on time and photos were done for the website. The dark circles under Barry’s eyes had been looking worse, Ben thought, especially under the harsh lights of filming. 

Ben only half pays attention to his book as he listens to Barry’s breath, hearing it go from deliberate to more even, making clear when Barry drifts off. Barry has an arm swung around Ben’s waist, almost like a seatbelt, just to hold him close. Ben quickly gives up on reading, setting his book down on his bedside table, looking down at Barry. When Ben runs his fingers through Barry’s hair and Barry stirs slightly, Ben’s eyebrows furrow, worried that he’s woken up the other man. All that Barry responds with is moving his head closer, leaning into the touch and Ben exhales a sigh of relief with a smile. 

Barry is touchy, everyone who has interacted with him - especially when he’s tired or drunk (God forbid you run into him when those Venn diagrams intersect) - knows that. Knowledge that is less common, that Ben likes to pretend only he is privy to, is that Barry is affectionate even in his sleep. He subconsciously leans into touch, and as Ben settles his own pillows down to rest, doing his best not to disturb Barry, the already sleeping man shifts, and Ben resigns himself to another night sleeping on his back with his shoulder serving as Barry’s pillow. At least until Barry stirs again. 

Ben would never complain. It’s hardly something to complain about as he sees it. 

The ‘I love you’s’ and kisses and arse grabs and sex, all of that is good, beyond good, but to Ben, there’s no better way to show love than the way Barry does. Reaching out for Ben in his sleep, wanting to be closer and have more contact, even when he’s in that soft state between being asleep and being awake so he can’t express it in words. The wordlessness of it gets to Ben - that Barry doesn’t need to open his mouth to say “I trust you, Ben”. 

That’s how Ben sees it. The combination of affection and love and trust that culminate together in Barry using his shoulder as a pillow with one arm, moved from Ben’s waist, now sprawled over his chest. 

Or when they’re sitting on the couch together, watching some movie that Barry had said he wouldn’t be able to stay awake through, and Barry curls his legs up under himself, lying down with his head in Ben’s lap. His snarky comments shift from speaking level to murmurs to silence, but not before Barry reaches for one of Ben’s hands, pulling it into his own to hold as he dozes off. 

Or in the studio, Barry wishing he could sleep but unable to while having to work. Ben knows all he needs to do is be in a few metre radius of Barry, with enough done for the day that everyone’s doing their own thing, before Barry walks up behind him, Barry’s arms wrapping around his waist, resting his head on Ben’s shoulder and murmuring into his ear. 

“ ‘m tired,” he says. 

“I know. You can’t sleep like this though, I have work to do.”

“So do I.”

“But you’re doing this instead?” 

Ben tilts his head to look at Barry, jolting Barry’s head only slightly but it’s enough to get a disgruntled huff out of him. 

“You’re better than work,” Barry says. “And I’m tired.” 

Ben nods, extricating himself from Barry’s arms so that he can turn around and face him. Ben wraps his own arms around Barry, letting Barry’s head find rest where his shoulder meets his chest. They stay like that for a few moments, Barry so still that Ben for a moment wonders if Barry has managed to fall asleep like that, in the studio, standing up. 

“I love you, Baz,” he says. “I wish I had more words for that. With food there are so many words, dialects and languages all having different words that are used for the same thing, foreign words finding their way into the English lexicon, so you have more words to explain what you do. There’s nothing like that for how I feel about you.”

“Nerd.” Barry’s reply is muffled by Ben’s chef’s jacket, but the one syllable word is hard to miss. 

“Oi, I’m being romantic,” Ben retorts. 

Barry lifts his head from Ben’s chest, looking him in the eyes. 

“Is this what I miss when I fall asleep before you?” 

Ben bites his lip, thinking for a moment before replying. “Sometimes. It’s different.”

“Different?” 

“You’re still affectionate when you’re asleep. It feels like another language.”

Barry pauses, the look in his eyes telling Ben to elaborate. 

“Like, it’s not english, it’s not verbal or logical, but something about you, I mean,” Ben cuts himself off. “This is so cheesy.”

“Yeah,” Barry replies, though the smile on his face matches the cheesiness of Ben’s words. 

“It’s like you can tell me you love me by moving your arm across my chest as you sleep, or when you wake me up by kicking my legs -”

“Oh, sorry.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, don’t be. It’s like you want to be as near to me as possible. And I love it, I love the affection, Baz.”

“And I love being close to you.”

A smile forms on Ben’s face to match Barry’s, though with a sheepish shake of his head. 

“And I love you.”


End file.
